Free at Last
by polychromatic
Summary: Nathan and Shilo both get their freedom, but freedom always comes with a steep price. Post-opera.
1. New Beginnings

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. REPO! The Genetic Opera is copyright to Darren Smith, Darren Lynn Bousman, and the lovely Terrance Zdunich and so are all the characters contained therein. Please don't hurt me. This is my first time posting fanfiction, so hopefully it's not too horrible.

* * *

Shilo walked through the open doors in a state of shock, pausing to look back into the darkened theater. How could she have not looked back? In a single day, she'd lost her father and the godmother she'd only known she'd had for a few hours. More than that, she'd lost her naivety. Covered in blood and numb with grief, Shilo slid into the waiting limo and disappeared into the night.

* * *

When he awoke, he didn't know where he was. The white walls were unfamiliar, but the dull beeping in the room was oddly calming. He reached out his hand in front of him and his eyes followed the tubes of the IV from his wrist to the morphine drip on the right of his bed. He realized then that he was in a hospital room. He tried to sit up but he stopped halfway, feeling stitches pulling at the skin of his chest. "_When …When did that happen…?_" he wondered, "_… and what exactly happened?_" It was then that he realized he had no memories, neither of himself nor of what might have happened. He just had a clean slate stretching back as far as he could look.

With some effort, he managed to sit up enough to reach the chart at the end of his bed. Grabbing it from its hook, he laid it out on his lap and began to read. Two gunshot wounds to the torso. John Doe. "_John Doe? Does no one know who I am?_" Even though he didn't feel like a John, it was the closest thing to a name that he had at the moment. "John… John." He murmured it a few times to accustom himself to the name, but it didn't seem to fit. He decided to try again, "Jonathon." That felt more… right somehow. "_Jonathon it is, then,_" he thought.

His eyes moved to the door of the hospital room as it opened, and a woman in scrubs entered with a smile, "Ah, good, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Jonathon blinked a few times. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with the woman's appearance, but something felt off in a way he couldn't quite place. "Uh, fine. Thank you," he murmured. It felt rude to stare, but he couldn't pry his eyes away. She seemed _overdressed_ somehow. Jonathon shook his head a few times to put the strange thoughts out of his mind.

The nurse didn't seem to notice anything unusual, however, as she went about checking the various monitors in the room. Jonathon watched her move, captivated. Once her circuit around the room was done, the nurse stopped by his bedside and leaned down to take his vitals, "Now that you're awake, we have some paperwork for you to fill out. The people who brought you in had no information on you." Jonathon froze. How could he possibly explain?

"That… that won't be possible," Jonathon said. The nurse paused and looked at him curiously. He could feel her eyes searching for unspoken answers.

"Why not? Are you in some kind of trouble…?" she asked.

"Not exactly, it's just—" Jonathon started, but the nurse cut him off before he could finish his sentence completely.

"If you are, don't worry. Unlike GeneCo, we have a very strict confidentiality policy—" the nurse began before Jonathon cut her off in return.

"I have no memory."


	2. Shilo's Price

"_It was never this hard before,"_ Shilo thought as she opened the dumpster in search of food. It had been a week since the opera and she'd been sleeping in her mother's tomb every night since. It was the only place she felt safe. She couldn't sleep at home anymore because every room reminded her of her father. She had already managed to pull herself up onto the edge of the dumpster before she noticed that it wasn't simply filled with trash. Shilo screamed and toppled off the side of the dumpster.

Graverobber stuck his head up over the side with an exasperated expression, "Look, I'm not open—" He stopped mid-sentence as recognition dawned in his eyes, and he leaned over the side of the dumpster and squinted, "Kid? Is that you?" Shilo hadn't had a proper bath in a few days and she was covered in graveyard dirt, so she didn't look or feel quite like herself. She stared up from the ground in disbelief. "_Finally, a familiar face!_" she thought. It felt like it'd been forever since she'd seen anyone she knew. "You're… You're him. You're that Graverobber."

Graverobber bowed slightly and grinned. "At your service. Except I'm closed," he said, pulling the dumpster lid back down.

Shilo grabbed the edge of the lid quickly, "No, wait! Please. Look… I don't know anyone else. I've been sleeping in a tomb…"

Graverobber laughed and motioned widely to his current residence, "This ain't exactly the Ritz, kid. Go home."

Shilo stuttered, "I-I can't. I—"

"Yeah, I know. Everyone does. You made the front-page news, kid." Graverobber fished around in the dumpster a moment before handing her the previous week's tabloid. The headline read in big bold letters: **Last Night's Opera! Shilo Wallace says NO to GeneCo**.

Shilo flipped open to the article and read. She was quickly astonished at just how much her father had kept from her. There was so much she never knew! Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she reached the part of the article detailing the opera, and she tossed the tabloid back in the dumpster, unable to read any more.

"Hey, watch it!" Graverobber called from inside the dumpster.

Shilo opened the lid once more and peered inside, "Can I… Can I just stay with you…? Being outside is… This… this is just never what I imagined my freedom would be like."

Graverobber looked up at her and chuckled, "It never is. But, that's the breaks, kid. Go home."

"Please," Shilo pleaded again, "I'll do anything. I can't go back there. Every room reminds me of my father and the house just feels empty…"

Graverobber lifted a brow, "Anything huh?"

"Anything," Shilo repeated.

Graverobber mulled it over for a while before finally nodding, "Alright. I might just have a job for you, then."

"A job?" Shilo asked, confusedly.

"A job," Graverobber confirmed, "You can stay here tonight for free, but tomorrow you're earning your keep. Ever robbed a grave before?"

"Uh, no?" Shilo wasn't sure she liked where the conversation was heading.

"Well, you're going to. Grab a slice of trash and get some rest. You'll need all your strength for tomorrow." Graverobber lifted the lid to the dumpster and motioned inwards. Shilo stood there for a long moment in shock, prompting a look of annoyance from Graverobber.

"Well? Are you coming in or going home?" he asked.

Shilo paused, suddenly having second thoughts. She wasn't exactly sure she was okay with sleeping in a dumpster. At least her mother's tomb was safe and relatively clean. At the same time, however, she knew she couldn't fend for herself for much longer. After a long moment of indecision, she sighed.

"Alright. I'll take the job."


	3. First Steps

Jonathon stared blankly at the wall across from his bed. He'd been in the hospital for a week now, and they hadn't even let him get up and walk around yet. When the nurses found out he had no memory the daily tests multiplied exponentially. Suddenly, the circuit of blood tests and vital checks had come to include memory games and numerous questions, and the CT scans followed quickly behind. None of their tests made the least bit of difference, however. Every test they did showed that there was nothing physically wrong with him other than the healing wounds on his body. Since then, they'd treated him as if he were some precious porcelain doll.

_The boredom is driving me crazy!_

He wanted to scream.

Jonathon leaned over and pressed the call button next to his bed for the umpteenth time that day. He didn't have to wait long before a nurse rushed into his room.

"What is it? Do you need something? More pillows? Food? Water?" The nurse asked. The nurses had grown rather fond of Jonathon, even though he didn't quite understand it.

"I'm going absolutely crazy with boredom. This is ridiculous. I have amnesia, not a terminal illness. Let me walk around a bit, or go outside for goodness sakes!" he said exasperatedly.

The nurse smiled fondly and knelt down at his bedside, "Look, Jonathon, we can't discharge you until we're sure what's causing your amnesia. If it's due to brain swelling and we don't catch it—"

"It's not due to brain swelling!" Jonathon yelled, frustrated, "I'm not an idiot. You've done about a thousand CT scans and every single one of them has been normal. I'm not dying, my wounds are stable, and I'm going stir crazy in this room. Let me at least walk around the hospital."

The smile on the nurse's face disappeared and she sighed. She stood up wordlessly and left the hospital room, leaving Jonathon alone with his thoughts again.

"_What are they afraid of!? I'm a grown man and quite capable of taking care of myself. A quick walk around the ward isn't going to kill me! The boredom will get me long before anything else can,_" he thought angrily. He just needed to _do something_. _Anything_. He didn't care what. His body was getting restless from being idle for so long. It was like an itching under his skin.

The nurse reentered the room after a few minutes and Jonathon's eyes met hers almost immediately in search of his answer. The nurse seemed a bit startled by the sudden raw intensity of his gaze, as she stopped abruptly halfway through the doorframe. "The… the doctor said that it would be alright … for you to take a walk around the ward," she said finally, her hesitation heavy in her voice.

Jonathon's mood brightened immediately. He swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed and placed both feet on floor. It only took a mild amount of pressure before Jonathon realized he wasn't going to be able to stand without help. His demeanor immediately changed, and the intensity from before was gone in an instant. At once, he seemed much more vulnerable and introverted. Jonathon cleared his throat, looked down at the floor, and asked, "Could … could you help me stand, please?"

The nurse rushed over to help, sliding her arms beneath Jonathon's and lifting him to standing. Jonathon wobbled uncertainly and clasped the nurse's shoulder for support. Once they'd found a comfortable balance between them, Jonathon took a tentative step forward. The nurse watched his slow progress and smiled, and she squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. He paused to find that balance again and then took another step forward. Each small step was a resounding victory over his injuries. One step at a time, Jonathon and nurse slowly made their way out of the hospital room.


	4. Lesson One

Shilo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She couldn't stop shaking. The wall of the tomb was cold against her back and the air smelled like wet dirt and dust. "_No backing out now…_" she thought. A voice in the back of her head was screaming for her to run, but it was too late to go back. Graverobber walked right by her without a moment's pause and she watched his back disappear down the tunnel. Shilo found it unnerving how used to this he was. She wondered if he'd been just as nervous the first time he'd raided the graveyard. Somehow, though, she couldn't imagine him being nervous.

"You're not going to get anything done just standing there. Let's go," Graverobber called over his shoulder.

Shilo slowly pulled herself away from the wall, nodding. Her heart was racing in her chest and she couldn't get it to stop, no matter how hard she tried to calm herself. What if they were caught? What if she couldn't do it? Would he kick her back out on the street? Shilo swallowed the lump in her throat and began down the tunnel. The tomb, like her mother's, had a connecting tunnel which allowed access to other places. This tomb in particular was connected to a whole series of tombs belonging to the occupant's relatives, which made it an easy way to sneak into and around the graveyard. Even though Shilo had navigated a similar tunnel hundreds of times before, it didn't bring her an ounce of comfort.

The distance between her and Graverobber was quickly expanding, so Shilo jogged to catch up. The passageway was almost too dark to see anything and it didn't seem to have an end. "Is it much farther?" she asked. "A little," Graverobber replied. After a few more minutes, they finally reached the door into the next tomb. Graverobber pushed the heavy stone door aside and stepped through the doorframe. Shilo followed close behind, wincing at the sudden introduction of light to her eyes. She squinted and shielded them, feeling along the wall until she found the open door to the graveyard.

The underground graveyard stretched out as far as Shilo could see. Gravestones dotted the landscape far out into the distance, covered in gravedust and cobwebs. Shilo ducked down and hugged close to the mausoleum wall as searchlights swirled around the graveyard. She looked around desperately for any sign of Graverobber, who'd slipped out of the tomb while her eyes were adjusting.

"Over here, kid."

Graverobber had already shoved the concrete slab aside on one of the coffins, having wasted no time in getting everything prepared for her. Shilo crept along the edge of the tomb before darting over to the coffin, the circles of light just barely missing her.

The scent hit her even before the sight did.

Her stomach twisted into knot and then dropped, and the nausea overwhelmed her almost instantly. She gagged and turned away from the gaping coffin, doubling over and vomiting behind one of the headstones in disgust. The man's face was barely a face anymore. The maggots and worms had eaten away most of the soft tissue, leaving behind a rotting mess of warped gray flesh and exposed bone.

"Oh god, that's awful," Shilo coughed, wiping the bile from her lips.

Graverobber didn't seem the least bit phased by the sight. He tapped his foot impatiently while Shilo retched and crossed his arms over his chest, "The longer you take, the bigger the chance of getting caught. Let's go."

Shilo coughed and spat, shuddering. Her head was swirling. She wasn't sure if it was another bout of withdrawal like she'd been getting since the opera or just an effect of the nausea, but she didn't think she could go through with it. She didn't want to get caught either, however, so she stood up slowly and took a slow breath to collect herself.

"Sorry. Sorry… Just… a little nauseous," Shilo said as she fixed her wig self-consciously.

Graverobber rolled his eyes and motioned to the coffin, "Come on, kid. Here." He opened his toolkit and withdrew a thin syringe, extending it towards Shilo. "It's not like you're gonna hurt him. Just stick that up his nose and pull back on the plunger."

Shilo tried to face the body again, but she still couldn't look without wanting to vomit. She coughed again and covered her mouth, hesitating before taking the syringe, "Ugh, what nose? There's almost nothing left of him."

"Right in the middle where that thin line of bone is. You gotta smack it up into his skull," he replied, miming the action with his hands.

"_Right… just gotta stick it up his nose. It's not gonna hurt him …he's already dead. Just don't breathe. Gotta make sure not to breathe,_" Shilo thought, taking a deep breath. She leaned in with the syringe in hand, holding her breath. Her hands were shaking. She reached slowly out to insert the syringe, trying not to breathe, trying not to look. She suddenly withdrew and shook her head, "No. No. I c-can't do it. I can't."

"Yes, you can. Don't think about it, just do it."

Shilo felt tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. "_It's this or nothing. I can't live on my own,_" she thought. Recollecting herself again, she leaned down towards the open coffin once more. She had to look away the moment she got close, but nonetheless, she knew what she had to do. She jabbed the syringe into what she figured was the center of the man's face. The syringe met resistance at first, but she felt it push through the solid barrier until it hit something softer. She pulled back on the plunger and then hastily pulled the syringe out. It wasn't until she'd stood up that she realized she'd closed her eyes. Opening them hesitantly, she looked down at the syringe. It was glowing blue.

Graverobber smirked and shook his head, "Not the best I've ever seen, but not bad. Congratulations, you did it kid. Wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, was it?"

Shilo wanted to nod. She wanted to say that it wasn't so bad, or even that it was. But she couldn't get her lips to form any words. The graveyard was swirling furiously around her line of vision. She stumbled backwards unsteadily and the syringe tumbled from her hand to the ground. She followed it just a moment later. Her eyes rolled back into her skull and she fainted onto the dirt.


	5. Withdrawal

Shilo awoke with a gasp. She couldn't remember anything after the graveyard went dark. She sat up and looked around horrified, half expecting to see the inside of her room and half expecting to see GeneCo's goon squad. She saw neither. Shilo scrambled to her feet unsteadily, trying to ignore the shaking that had consumed her body. She picked up her wig from the ground as her eyes darted around in panic. She was in a tomb, or at least as far as she could tell.

"You shouldn't be up and about just yet, kid. That was quite a fall you took."

Shilo's head whipped around to find Graverobber on the other side of the tomb, sitting atop a coffin sorting out his tools and Zydrate vials. She stared for a moment before looking back around the tomb, "What… what happened?"

"You fainted," Graverobber said matter-of-factly as he closed up his toolkit and hopped off the coffin, "You're never gonna make it in this business if you do that every time, though." He smirked and closed the distance between them before leaning down to look at her as though making sure she was okay. He took hold of her hands for a moment and then felt her forehead. He frowned and shook his head, but he said nothing as he turned back around and walked back to his previous spot. It took Shilo a moment to realize what had just happened and she blinked a few times in confusion.

"Wait. What? What is it?" she called after him, "Hey! What's going on?"

Graverobber hopped back up on the coffin and picked up his toolkit, slinging it over his shoulder. He then started tucking away the vials into his jacket, "You know, I wouldn't have pegged you for an addict, kid. You're just full of surprises."

"What? An addict? What are you talking about? I don't do drugs!" Shilo said, defensively. She combed out her wig with her fingers and then put it back on, tugging it into place like she'd done so many times before.

"I deal with addicts on the fritz every day. I know what withdrawal looks like, and you're there," he replied as he stood up, "Having this job and being an addict isn't going to mix well. If you're hooked on what you sell, you'll never sell anything."

Shilo just stared at him in silence for a long moment. She'd never done drugs in her life—how could she? She'd spent the last seventeen years locked in her room. Then, the realization hit her. Her father's medication. Shilo slowly sank down to the floor and held her head in shock. She couldn't have known just how far reaching the effects of the medication were.

"How long?" Shilo asked.

"Hm? How long what?" Graverobber asked in return.

"How long until the withdrawal stops…?"

Graverobber hummed and tapped his chin, "Well, it all depends, kid. How long was the habit?"

"Seventeen years."

Graverobber looked genuinely surprised at her answer. He couldn't imagine her as being any older than seventeen, so the number didn't sit right in his brain, "Seventeen years?" he asked, in case he hadn't heard correctly. Shilo nodded, "Yes." Graverobber narrowed his eyes skeptically, "Right."

"It's true," Shilo murmured, "My father was …poisoning me." The truth was a lot harder to say than she even imagined. Somehow, as long as she didn't say it, it didn't have to be real. Even though he'd admitted it himself, until it came out of her own lips she didn't have to deal with it. Shilo bit the inside of her lip and sighed, fighting the urge to burst into tears.

Graverobber frowned. "_So, that was it, huh?_" he thought. He nodded wordlessly and offered her a hand, "Well, don't worry about it so much, kid. You'll be back on your feet in no time." Shilo just stared at his extended hand for a long moment before she took it, and Graverobber easily pulled her trembling form to standing. "_I sure hope so_," Shilo thought. If the withdrawal ever did subside, it would be the first moment of her life without being plagued by sickness.

"Let's go kid. You've still got a lot to learn."


End file.
